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Once you get below the floor of our personal identities, we're all connected. Perhaps that's why we can move into others' lives.

Janet Fitch

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Janet Fitch
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: November 9
Author
Journalist
Novelist
University Teacher
Writer
LA
California
Janet Elizabeth Fitch
Perhaps
Move
Personal
Moving
Lives
Identities
Others
Floor
Connected
Identity

More quotes by Janet Fitch

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Do you ever want to go home?' I asked Paul. He brushed an ash from my face. 'It's the century of the displaced person,' he said. 'You can never go home.
Janet Fitch
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The cake had a trick candle that wouldn't go out, so I didn't get my wish. Which was just that it would always be like this, that my life could be a party just for me.
Janet Fitch
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she’s not as pretty as you,” I said “But she’s a simpler girl,” my mother whispered.
Janet Fitch
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Always learn poems by heart. They have to become the marrow in your bones. Like fluoride in the water, they'll make your soul impervious to the world's soft decay.
Janet Fitch
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purification in fire. public cremation
Janet Fitch
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My hatred gives me strength.
Janet Fitch
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her scruffy innoscense to impregnate with his dreams. reason was seductive, it gave the appearance of truth
Janet Fitch
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Writing mirrors the interior self. You know, any book is like the perfect blueprint of the psyche of the author.
Janet Fitch
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A cliche is everything you've ever heard of.
Janet Fitch
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I almost said, you're not broken, you're just going through something. But i couldn't. She knew. There was something terribly wrong with her, all the way inside. She was like a big diamond with a dead spot in the middle. I was supposed to breathe life into that dead spot, but it hadn't worked.
Janet Fitch
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It's not that he was going nowhere, it's that he'd already arrived.
Janet Fitch
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If sinners where so unhappy, why would they prefer their suffering? But now I knew why. Without my wounds, who was I?
Janet Fitch
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That kind of tenderness couldn't be permitted to last. You only got a taste, enough to know what perfection meant, and then you paid for it the rest of your life. Like the guy chained to a rock, who stole fire. The gods made an eagle eat his liver for all eternity. You paid for every second of beauty you managed to steal.
Janet Fitch
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My house is modern, but I like my writing room to be old fashioned. I write on a little wooden secretary desk.
Janet Fitch
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No matter how unappealing, each of them imagines he is somehow worthy.
Janet Fitch
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We don't have a unitary society anymore, you know it's very fragmented. I look up and down my block in Silverlake and there is a different universe in every house.
Janet Fitch
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That was what she really wanted. To forget so thoroughly she'd never have another memory again, the bitter so bitter you gave up the sweet.
Janet Fitch
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like a kid kicked out of class. humiliated and free.
Janet Fitch
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My father was an engineer - he wasn't literary, not a writer or a journalist, but he was one of the world's great readers. Every two weeks, he'd take me to our local branch library and pull books off the shelf for me, stacking them up in my arms - 'Have you read this? And this? And this?
Janet Fitch
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She should think about her own soul, what she was going to do with this funky tattered pond dank item. Dark and stained, a ruined thing.
Janet Fitch